


the only light i ever saw

by gracieminabox



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Married Couple, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15203624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracieminabox/pseuds/gracieminabox
Summary: "Chris and Phil survived because the fire of their love for each other in the confines of their basement burned far brighter than the fires that raged outside of it."They didn't get a wedding before. They do now.(A sequel of sorts to "and we run," so sweet it'll rot your teeth.)





	the only light i ever saw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TooNerdyToHandle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooNerdyToHandle/gifts).



> For my dear friend Kenzie, who's had a rough go of it recently and could use some contentment.

Chris let out a nonspecific noise of aggravation as he yanked at the knot in his tie and readjusted it for another attempt. “Ties are  _ stupid,”  _ he muttered to his reflection.

Jim poked his head around the corner. “Dad? You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Chris sighed, then frowned.  _ How the hell did I tie my finger into this knot?  _ “No,” he finally conceded, turning to Jim. “Help.”

Jim grinned, stepping around the corner and swatting Chris’ hands away from his neck. “Oh, Dad,” he sighed dramatically. “How’d you manage to get a doctorate, being this hopeless?”

_ “Hey!”  _ Chris protested. “The Windsor knot wasn’t part of my dissertation. Phil’s always tied all my ties for me.”

“Well, he’s not tying this one,” Jim declared. “You can’t see the groom before the wedding; it’s bad luck.”

“You think Phil and I haven’t had all the bad luck we’re allotted for our lives yet?”

Jim’s hands seemed to fumble just the tiniest bit. Chris heard him swallow. “That’s a fair point, Dad,” he finally said.

Chris had noticed Jim doing that ever since the attacks. Back when Chris had first adopted him, even though they were now legally father and son, Jim very rarely called Chris  _ Dad, _ and Chris never pressed. But after last year - after the seven hellish weeks of assumption that Chris and Phil had died in a fiery blast, and then after their miraculous arrival in safe territory, gravely ill and injured but alive - Chris immediately and irrevocably became  _ Dad. _ And Jim would pepper it into conversation as often as possible, a subtle little reinforcement of their relationship. Neither of them ever spoke of it, but Chris  _ loved _ it.

“All right, there you go,” Jim said softly. “One properly tied tie.” He frowned, leaned up, and brushed his fingers through Chris’ hair a few times. “Lint removal sold separately.”

“Put it on my tab,” Chris replied, putting on his jacket. “How much time have we got?”

“We should’ve left two minutes ago,” Jim answered. “Areum’s gonna have kittens if we’re late.”

Chris shook his head, locking the door behind Jim as he left the house. “I’d pay to see that.”

~

“Phil?” Len knocked on the door to the room. “You decent?”

“Never, but I’m clothed,” Phil called. “C’mon in.”

Len opened the door, eyes still in the process of rolling at Phil’s little crack. “You nervous?”

Phil looked up from tying his shoe and smiled. “Not a bit.”

Len raised his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Well, Len, we’re already married,” Phil said. “The  _ wedding’s _ never the part to be nervous about. The  _ marriage _ is. We already know how to do that.”

Len gave a conciliatory nod, then leaned his head back against the doorframe. “I was nervous,” he said. “I was a basketcase, actually. ‘s why we eloped. I didn’t wanna be standin’ there in front of some church packed to the rafters soakin’ through my dress blues.”

Phil snickered. “Beats the hell out of saying your vows under a table in your basement wearing your sweatpants with a cramp in your hip and the world on fire outside.” He slipped his jacket on, giving Len a gentle smile.

Len nodded solemnly. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hey,” Phil said softly. “There’s enough sad today. Let’s go do something not sad.”

~

It was raining, which was appropriate no matter how you looked at it. It just seemed right that it  _ should _ rain on May 30 now, as a sort of memorial to what happened on the previous May 30 - but it was neither annoyingly drizzly nor torrentially stormy. This was a steady, cleansing sort of rain, the kind of rain that’s good to fall asleep in, the kind that refreshes and comforts and makes things bright and green again.

It was a very  _ Chris and Phil  _ kind of rain.

Chris and Jim stood in a little alcove off the main room in the tiny little fifty-person capacity hall they’d rented, hands in their pockets, not looking at one another. They were quiet, just listening to the shoes of the guests squeak as they filed in from the rain.

“Dad?” Jim broke their quiet softly.

Chris turned. “Yeah, Jim?”

Jim’s jaw worked a little without any sound for a moment. “I just…” He paused and took a deep breath. “I always wanted to see this.” Jim turned to look at Chris. “Every day. Since I was a kid. I wanted to see you guys get married. I know you technically  _ are _ already married, but…” He smiled and gestured around nonspecifically.  _ “This. _ I wanted  _ this _ for you guys. And I’m really glad I get to be here for it.”

Chris swallowed past the sudden tightness in his chest, opened his arms, and hugged his son for dear life. “I love you, kid.”

Jim squeezed his eyes shut into the skin of Chris’ neck. “Love you too, Dad.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Areum Sulu’s smiling face popping in.

“Your boy’s ready to go,” she told Chris. “Are you?”

Chris nodded. “Very.”

~

Phil’s parents were still alive, reasonably healthy, and mobile enough to attend, so they walked him down the aisle. Chris’ parents were gone now, so Jim walked him down the aisle. (Jim denied vociferously having cried in the process. Jim lied.)

Phil’s grin was blinding, seeing Chris and Jim walk up to him. Phil kissed Jim’s cheek, and Jim put Chris’ hand in Phil’s.

“Hey you,” Phil whispered to Chris, squeezing his hand tight.

Chris felt the warm, heavy weight of happiness sink into his body as he smiled back. “Hi, handsome.”

The officiant gently cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

“Today is May 30,” she began. “For most of the world, this date will always be irredeemably marred by tragedy. After the attacks that took place one year ago, after the devastation and the horrendous loss of life, many among the living feared we would never see some of our dearest virtues again. Hope. Joy. Love.” She paused significantly. “But from the ashes of horror, those virtues emerged victorious. The two men we are here to celebrate are emblematic of that.”

Chris moved his arm to wrap it around Phil’s waist. Holding hands was not close enough.

“One year ago today, in the basement of their home in California, as weapons of mass destruction rained down around them, Chris Pike and Phil Boyce pledged their love and lives to each other. And then they used that love as fuel to propel them to safety, a thousand miles away, on foot. Chris and Phil survived because the fire of their love for each other in the confines of their basement burned far brighter than the fires that raged outside of it.”

Chris heard Phil take a shaky breath. Chris leaned over and kissed his temple. In his periphery, he saw Jim covertly wipe his eyes.

“Today, we’ve gathered here to celebrate Chris, and Phil, and their inexhaustible devotion to one another as they renew their vows as beloved husbands.”

She nodded to them. Chris and Phil turned to face each other. Phil went first.

“When we first got married,” he began, “we kind of spat out some pre-fab wedding vows to each other. We didn’t want to die without being married, so we just said the words we knew would work. We didn’t say what we  _ wanted _ to say. Well, this is what I wanted to say.”

A tear fell down Phil’s cheek. Chris thumbed it off without thinking about it.

“What I wanted to say is that I love you. I’ve loved you so long and so deeply that I couldn’t  _ begin _ to understand how  _ not _ to love you. I love your brilliance, your wit, your warmth. I love how snarky you are, how you can’t cook worth a damn, how you always seem to forget that you need reading glasses, and how curious you are about  _ everything.  _ And I am  _ so glad  _ that I have decades, now, to have you correct my misspellings and hear you sing in the shower and laugh with you and love you and grow old with you.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to brush Chris’ tears away.  _ “I love you,”  _ Phil whispered.

Chris looked down at his fingers entangled with Phil’s, took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself, and then spoke.

“You’ve saved my life so many times, Phil,” he began hoarsely. “You did last year, in a very literal sense, repeatedly - but we both know there’s more to it than that. You’ve been saving my life every day since the day we met, in a million little ways. You taught me how to be kind; you also taught me how to be tough. You taught me how to be smart; you also taught me the value in being stupid once in a while. You taught me how to be strong; you also taught me how to be gentle. And you taught me how to really, truly love.” Chris paused, his voice breaking, before he continued. “You’ve seen me sullen and frightened and depressed and angry and sick and all the different colors of  _ not the best version of myself,  _ and you’ve never given up on me. Not once.” He paused, squeezing Phil’s fingers tightly. “We’ll never get enough years for me to show you how much I love you, Phil, but I’ll use the ones we’ve got to try to prove it to you, every day.”

There was a long moment of silence when Chris was done. The only sound was the rain, falling steady and soft outside, punctuated by the odd sniffle of emotion from someone in attendance. The officiant was perceptive enough to let it linger for a time before she spoke again.

“Philip John, do you reaffirm with all your heart your commitment to your husband, to love and to cherish him, to laugh and to grow with him, to encourage and to trust in him, and to comfort and support him, in glory and in desperation, in triumph and in tragedy, whatever may befall you?”

“Absolutely, I do.”

Chris heard Jim hiccup behind him.

“Christopher Vincent, do you reaffirm with all your heart your commitment to your husband, to love and to cherish him, to laugh and to grow with him, to encourage and to trust in him, and to comfort and support him, in glory and in desperation, in triumph and in tragedy, whatever may befall you?”

Chris smiled at Phil and nodded. “I definitely do.”

The officiant smiled benevolently. “It is my pleasure and my privilege to declare your vows of marriage reaffirmed.”

Phil turned to face her. “Can I kiss my husband now, please?”

She laughed lightly. “Be my guest.”

Phil leaned in to kiss Chris, and the world around them dissolved to just the two of them and the falling rain.

~

“Did you think this is how we’d end up?”

Phil asked the question from Chris’ lap, where he was propped up on one arm. They were both ever so slightly tipsy from champagne - Chris more so than Phil; Phil had to be careful with his liver after the radiation exposure he’d suffered, so he’d taken it extra easy - their ties loosened and their jackets thrown over the backs of their chairs. Most of the guests had filtered out at this point; only Jim, Len, and the Sulus remained, scattered throughout the room.

Chris looked down and ran a hand through his husband’s hair. “Married, you mean?”

“Mm. All of it.”

Chris smiled and looked around. “Well. Didn’t think we’d get nuked.”

Phil stretched lazily. “Well, yeah.”

“Didn’t think we’d be living in Canada. Didn’t think I wanted to get married again. Didn’t think I wanted a kid. Hell, when I met you, I still thought I was straight.”

“Yeah. That was a tough ten years,” Phil noted offhandedly.

“Not so tough as the last one,” Chris said.

Phil brushed a curl off Chris’ forehead. “Different kinds of tough,” he said softly. “At least I had you this last year.”

There was a pause. Chris grabbed Phil’s left hand and tangled their fingers together, running a thumb over Phil’s wedding band.

“Thank you for loving me,” he said softly. “Even when I put up a hell of a fight.”

Phil leaned up and kissed him. Chris tasted the sweet of the champagne on his husband’s lips. “Thank you for loving me,” he said. “Even when it’s been a leap of faith.”

Not far away, Hikaru and his boyfriend were leaning into each other sleepily. Hikaru’s parents were cleaning up the hall, tossing lengths of ribbon and wilting flowers. Jim and Len were dancing in lazy circles to no music at all.

A low, comforting promise of thunder rumbled outside. Chris and Phil smiled, pressed their foreheads together, and breathed the moment in.


End file.
